


Down The Rabbit Hole

by Skywalkerspock



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Flashbacks, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-23
Updated: 2013-11-23
Packaged: 2018-01-02 11:00:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1055986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skywalkerspock/pseuds/Skywalkerspock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an alcohol filled night out, Chord has to ride back to LA in a crowded backseat with Darren on his lap.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Down The Rabbit Hole

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction. It was written for fun. Naya is in it for a second. Mark has a bit of a longer cameo.

Darren insisted they could all fit in the back and everyone was too drunk to attempt any counter argument with him. There was zero available space in the front as it was jammed with instruments they were ferrying back to LA. Darren had lent the equipment to his buddy whose band had just played the House of Blues. 

There had been plenty of room for Chord and Darren on the drive down. Mark had come in a separate car but since he and his friend were both too drunk to drive themselves back, the boys had to packed in like sardines for the trip back. Besides no one really wanted to stay in Anaheim for the night. The following morning any hotel would be crawling with loud overstimulated kids eager to start their magical Disneyland experience. Cramming into a car for 45 minutes was definitely the better prospect. 

And that’s how Chord ended up in a waking nightmare: Darren on his lap in the back of a Lincoln Towncar with Mark Salling and friend passed out next to them.

The day had started off well. Chord had a great time at Disneyland. The concert afterwards at the House of Blues had been better than expected. Darren, of course, had been the only one familiar with his friend’s band. His taste was so diverse, it was usually impossible to determine ahead of time if it was a show you wanted to see. Chord had learn to go with the flow when it came to Darren’s musical choices. Eight out of ten times the results were good and those were decent returns in Chord’s eyes. As a fellow musician, Chord was a person who appreciated effort. Plus it was always fun to see Darren get excited about “supporting live music.” Not that it took much to excite Darren. He was enthusiastic about most things.

This 24/7 positivity led Chord to think Darren was a bit odd when he first met him. He could never get a good read on him;he didn't understand how it was possible for someone to be so energetic and happy all the time. He could see him now through the open car door, bouncing up and down as he talked to the driver, still giddy with pride over solving their travel problem. 

It takes Darren, prone to babbling and going way off topic, surprisingly little time to give the driver the instructions for the additional passengers. He scrambles in the backseat, moving towards Chord. Darren had insisted Chord go in first so he was directly behind the driver’s seat. He props himself on Chord's left thigh, throwing his jean clad legs over the right one. Kicking off his loafers, he then peels off his leather jacket and discards it casually to the floor.

Chord wearing loose black jeans and a red gingham button up, feels a bit like Santa Claus as Darren settles himself on Chord’s “man perch.” It was the term for Chord’s thighs coined by Darren during his explanation of the "great solution". “Trademark pending,” he proudly noted, “So no one can use it without my express written permission.” 

There is only quiet for a few seconds. “You totally rocked those Mickey ears!” Darren exclaims out of the blue, breaking Chord out of his thoughts. “You would have been a shoo in for the Mickey Mouse Club. All the boys and girls would have been crushin on you.” 

Chord blames the alcohol for his retort, “Does that include little Darren?”

“That horse left da barn a while ago,” replies Darren in a horrible attempt at a Tennessee accent.

“Please, please, please, I beg you. Please stop with the southern accents.”

Darren lowers his voice to a whisper and pushes off the door he was leaning against so he can speak directly into Chord’s ear.

“Why would I stop when I like to see you beg Chord Overstreet.”

Chord blushes and is left speechless. He is spared having to make a comeback as Mark, who had been outside smoking a cigarette, slides in the backseat followed by his friend, Steve. 

“I don’t know about you two,” Mark barks overly loud, “but I’m going to sleep and dream about that bartender who gave me her number. As ya'll will be dropped off first let me take this time to say good nite boys.” 

Steve chimes in with, “And I will be dreaming of my bed. I’m not the spry young man of years past. This door will have to serve as proxy for now. Epic night gentlemen and I too bid ya'll a good night.” 

They both close their eyes and miss Chord’s face blush a darker red as Darren shifted around to get more comfortable for the ride home. 

Mark and Steve pass out before the driver pulls out of the VIP lot, leaving Darren and Chord with privacy for the journey back to West Hollywood. The driver is from the car service on retainer with the studio. It was made available to all cast members for work related events. The service was also available as a perk for some cast members for private use. All the drivers were well paid and had signed confidentiality agreements on file. 

This particular driver was one Darren and Chord, separately and together, used often for outings. The driver only noticed the road and disregard anything else going on in the car. He never attempted to engage anyone in mindless small talk or ask for autographs. Nothing was reported back to the company or the studio except mileage. It was a perfect arrangement for Chord and Darren, who both highly valued their privacy. 

Chord wishes lack of privacy is why he was currently uncomfortable. The situation weighed up him and it had nothing to do with being in the back seat of a car with a guy on his lap. Darren was in fact as he often stated, “Tiny as fuck.” And Chord has had men sit on his lap on other occasions; cast and crew as well as a few strangers at parties. 

“I told you this would work well,” Darren chirps, again interrupting Chord’s thoughts for a moment, “I’m as light as a feather and you are sturdy like a brick house. They may huff and puff but no one could blow you over Chord Overstreet. Safe and warm am I.” 

Chord knows Darren is making a joke by mixing fairy tale and Star Wars references but he can't stop thinking about how he would like Darren to blow him. 

He knew it’s something Darren has done in the past. He had given Chord a drunken dissertation once, earlier on in their friendship, about the joys of sucking cock that had shocked and intrigued Chord. Darren explained in graphic detail how it felt to be on your knees in front of another man. How it could be a position of power. The delight in the feel and weight of a thick cock on your tongue. The burn from having your mouth stretched. The joy from the pain. How he loved it because giving pleasure gave him pleasure. 

Darren had stared at Chord’s lips the entire time he spoke. He finished up by saying life was about a collection of experiences. Why deny yourself? Then he bounced away to join his girlfriend in a debate on the best places to score vinyl in NYC. It was never discussed again leaving a confused Chord to think he had imagined the entire conversation. 

But Chord quickly learned that Darren marched to the beat of his own drummer. It was part of his charm. In a city full of people paid to pretend for a living, it wasn’t easy to find sincerity. Relationships were a means to an end. It often made Chord homesick. 

Darren was different. If he was your friend, you had his trust and 100% of his support. He didn’t laud his accomplishments over anyone. He used his successes to help others find their own. It was how he and Chord remained close friends even after Chord’s contract wasn’t picked up for season three of the show. The occasional odd conversation aside, they had an easy friendship. There was never any trouble until now. 

Chord’s trouble was a bit of a cliche, he knew, even if it had a modern twist. He had become enamored with his friend. He had known it for a while and he wanted to keep his desires to himself. With images of Darren’s lips wrapped around his cock dominating his thoughts, Chord needed to find a way to get back to LA without revealing his feelings and embarrassing himself. So far job not well done. His only saving grace tonight was that unlike Darren, he wore his jeans loose.

There is the usual post Disneyland traffic clogging the roadways. No where close to LA, Darren gets more comfortable, leaning back on Chord’s chest, resting his head on his shoulder. His hair is surprising soft against Chord’s neck. Chord can’t help notice that Darren’s hair smells nice even after a long day out in the sun and a couple of hours in a crowded bar. He dips his head to get closer to the scent, his nose brushing against Darren’s scalp when Darren shifts unexpectedly. 

“Did you just sniffed my hair?” Darren asks with a smile in his voice, “It smells good right. I use this shampoo that has chamomile and the conditioner has organic honey. I’m like a little cup of tea.” 

He starts to hum what sounds suspiciously like _I’m A Little Teapot_ , tapping out the notes with his left hand that had taken residence near Chord’s heart. Chord doesn’t think Darren is aware of his actions. Darren mindlessly humming, playing invisible instruments, or softly singing to himself are things Chord has witnessed often. Chord finds the current serenade soothing so he also leans his head back and closes his eyes. 

The humming stops after a few minutes; there is only the sound of driving.

“I like how you are always filming me,” Darren quietly states, breaking the silence. 

Chord is not sure how to respond. The way Darren made the admission as he snuggled closer to him is not helping Chord’s effort to suppress the feelings he doesn’t want to discuss. He remains silent. His body does not. Having Darren this close was making his pulse quicken. His heartbeat was echoing in his ears. There was no way Darren couldn’t feel the thumping of his heart. Chord was falling further and further down the rabbit hole. 

\---

The recordings started off innocently enough. Chord filmed everyone and everything. He wanted to be sure to capture the experience of Glee. His time away had given him an appreciation for how special it was to be part of the show. He and Darren had bonded easily as the newest kids on the block. Chord was happy to discover that Darren was just as tactile a person as Chord. It was natural that their interactions often included touch. Chord often horsed around with his friends back home. He liked being able to have similar playful times with someone during the long hours on set. 

Of course Darren, born and raised in San Francisco, was a little different from the boys back in Tennessee. He had a tendency to grab Chord’s hand to get his attention. Darren would take Chord’s hand to “show him something cool” but didn’t release it when they reached their destination. He would babble on about the thing de jure he was excited about while keeping Chord’s hand firmly in his grip. Initially,it was a bit shocking but Chord chalked it up to being in LA and Darren growing up in San Francisco. A few times when Darren had dragged Chord to hear some “amazing busker” he would continue to hold his hand, caressing his thumb across the back and swinging their locked hands in time to the music. Chord liked the feel of Darren’s fingers against his skin so he would remain quiet. Whenever Darren belatedly noticed their interlocked fingers, he would grin sheepishly and say “Sorry dude.”

“Dude you gotta come see this,” was usually all the warning Chord got before being dragged away. Anyone other than Darren, and Chord would have been annoyed but it was difficult to not like Darren. He radiated positivity. He was one of Chord’s biggest cheerleaders, always complimenting Chord on his music and comedic skills. He encouraged Chord to do his first live show. Few others outside his family gave him the same level of support. 

Chord told people who expressed curiosity about the hand holding, “If Darren wants to take my hand, then I am happy to let him. He supports me unconditionally so it’s a little thing to let him hold my hand.” This was partially truth. Chord didn’t reveal to the curiosity seekers all the layers to his feelings. He didn’t just let Darren hold his hand. He liked it. Darren's hands had a contrast that intrigued Chord. They were soft but callused on his tips from playing the guitar and piano for so many years. They were strong and gave Chord a sense of connection when he sometimes felt lost in LA, a city filled with hundreds of other blond actors with great abs. Darren’s friendship was very dear to Chord. 

And there was a deeper layer. Late at night, home alone and relaxed from two fingers of Scotch, was the only time Chord allowed himself to explore the truth depths of his feelings. To fantasize about the feel of Darren’s hands on other parts of his body. Rough and smooth. Gripping tightly. Possessively. 

Darren being a guy and the subject of his fantasies wasn’t something he dwelled on. As an actor, he had to be open to new experiences to better his craft. If that included having sexual feelings for Darren so be it. Chord was always honest with himself about his emotions. He might not act upon them or admit them to anyone else but he never lied to himself. 

Eventually, this openness and honesty with himself gave Chord's leave to be more brazen with his appreciation for his friend's physical attributes. It was nearly impossible to not notice them. The wardrobe department seemed to have a mandate to put Darren in the tightest clothes possible. Darren took in in stride. He would walk around set asking anyone who would listen how he looked in his pants, purposely jutting his hip out and batting his eyes like Bettie Boop. 

He would take it a step further whenever he was around Chord, rubbing his ass or pretending to drop something so he could bend over in front of him. 

“Oh dear, I have dropped my pencil again,” he would tease. “I hope my pants don’t rip open. I wouldn’t want to expose my bare ass to the world.” 

Chord would laugh and throw whatever was near him at Darren: highlighters, water bottles, scripts, the target always being his ass. He hit it 99% of the time. 

“It’s too big of a target to ever miss,” he would tell Darren. Laying on his Tennessee accent he sometimes added, “It’s like the broad side of a barn.” 

This would send Darren scurrying off giggling. Whomever was nearby at the time, using one of the PA’s, would inevitably roll their eyes and mutter to themselves, “Get a room already.”

\---

The Gaga episode was an interesting time on set for Chord. He felt like a king all week. Darren along with the rest of the cast and crew gave Chord’s angel outfit appreciative looks throughout the day. Chord teemed with pride as he worked hard to maintain his physique. 

During lunch on Thursday of that shooting week Chord was eating with Darren and a few of the PA’s, everyone gathered around one of the tables set up outside near the trailers. Darren, sitting next to Chord, exclaimed out of the blue, “I wish I looked as good as you do in your costume Chord Overstreet. Your abs are sick.” He started to reach out to touch Chord’s stomach before catching himself. Shrugging his shoulders, he continued, “ Oh well, we can’t all be perfect like Chord Overstreet,” and got up and left. The PA’s chuckled and continued eating. 

In contrast to Chord, Darren looked ridiculous in his Gaga costume but as the consummate team player, he didn’t complain about it. He would prance around set wiggling his ass so the tail would move. He adopted a bad German accent to ask everyone if he made a "pretty pony". 

Despite the outrageous of it, there was a part of Chord that thought Darren did make a pretty pony. He liked Darren in his Gaga outfit. He couldn’t explain exactly why, maybe it was some unexplored kink. Darren’s amble ass was barely covered by the tight silver fabric. When he walked his right cheek would slip out causing Chord to unconsciously lick his lips when Darren entered his field of vision. 

Darren caught Chord staring at his ass two times. The first time he just stared back until his ringing phone interrupted the moment and forced Darren to continue on his way. His ringtone ironically being Nine Inch Nails’ _Closer_. 

The second time, Darren smiled and walked over to where Chord was slouching in a director’s chair. He put his hands high on Chord’s legs, thumbs resting between his inner thighs. Keeping steady eye contact, he leaned in and whispered to Chord, “Did you know they make butt plugs like this? With the tail and everything. Weird, right?” Smiled again and abruptly walked away. 

Later that night Chord had a dream about Darren wearing a butt plug under his costume. He and Darren sneak off to Darren’s trailer on a break from filming. 

Once inside, Darren pulls down his tights and bends over the small table near his window. He tells Chord, “The lube is in the side table. Disregard the condoms. I want to feel all of you inside me. I want you leaking out of me on set so I am sore and uncomfortable. Later on you can wash me and lick me dry.”

“You want to play in my hole don’t you Chord? I see you staring at me. I know you like my tight clothes. How my pants fit so snugly around my ass. You want to know how it’s going to feel to be inside me. To feel me clinch around you as you make me come.” 

“I thought about you when I was fucking myself on my fingers. Imagining your cock inside me. Filling me up. Making me burn. I thought about you all day. Walking around with that plug inside me. Now I get the real thing. Let me see Chord. Let me see what you are going to give me. I want it.” 

Chord has his hand in his black tights. Touching himself as Darren verbalizes the things Chord has wanted to do ever since he started prancing around with that tail and talking about butt plugs. Teasing Chord. Making him want things he had never wanted before from anyone: man or woman. 

Chord pulls off his tights to show Darren. Show him what he did to him. His cock leaking with pre cum, swollen and throbbing with need. Darren eyes it greedily and Chord knows he will spill all over his hand if he continues to stand there.

He quickly moves to the side table where Darren told him the lube was located and rubs a generous amount on his cock. He pulls out the plug, lines himself up and plunges deep inside Darren with one thrust. 

Then he wakes up. 

Chord noticed a vibrator in Darren’s trailer a week later. He had stopped by to grab Darren for lunch and it was on his sofa cushion, not far from where Chord was seated, on display for anyone to see. Chord couldn’t stop glancing at it as he waited for Darren to changed his shirt. Finally, he asked, which elicited a cheshire cat like grin from Darren. 

“ That’s Naya’s. She was showing me what she got at a sex toy party that one of the crew members had thrown last weekend.” Finished with his wardrobe change, he squatted down in between Chord legs, hands clasped together like a child in prayer, innocent eyes framed by ridiculously long eyelashes looking up at Chord. “You don’t think it's mine do you?” he purred, “What would I do with a vibrator Chord Overstreet?” Chord opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by Darren’s, “ I’m hungry, let’s eat,” so he dropped it. 

When Chord had asked Naya about it later in the day she couldn’t stop laughing. All he managed to understand between her cackling and crying was,“Of course he did.” 

Chord laid in bed many nights thinking about that vibrator in Darren’s dressing room. The idea of the vibrator in him and Darren’s lips on him was his favorite fantasy. Darren using the vibrator in Chord’s ass as he sucked him off. Darren taking the full length of Chord in his mouth; Chord’s fingers wrapped in Darren’s dark curls, tugging slightly. Fucking into Darren’s mouth, hitting the back of his throat. The room full of the sounds of sucking and moaning. Darren getting pleasure from making Chord feel good. 

That is when he started to film Darren for ‘other’ reasons. It was a shade creepy but he liked watching Darren. Chord would play the videos back numerous times when he was home alone. If anyone ever noticed the playback count on his laptop they would definitely be suspicious. And it seemed Darren was not as clueless to Chord’s true motives for ‘capturing the moment’ as Chord had hoped. 

“A little alcohol and the legendary Criss modesty is out the door", he joked, “I record everyone superstar.” 

“I know but I still feel special. You make work fun.” 

“Thanks Darren.” 

“You’re very welcome,Chord Overstreet.”

“So you have fun with me?” Darren asks a few moments later. 

“Of course, you know that.” 

“I’m glad,” Darren mumbles before closing his eyes,"I want to keep my Chord happy." 

Chord, not hearing the "my" drifts off for a bit too. He wakes when the car suddenly jerks and takes a sudden dip from hitting a piece of debris on the road. This causes Darren to fall off the man perch and lands him squarely in Chord’s crotch, forcing a low groan out of him. He glances down at Darren who has a strange gleam in his eye. Chord looks over at Mark and his friend and they are both still blissfully passed out. 

Chord maintains the joking tone from before. “Comfy are we Darren. Let me know if I can do anything else to make this journey pleasant for you. We at Overstreet,Inc. strive to provide the very best in travel accommodations.” 

“So you are here to service my needs. Is that what you are telling me Chord Overstreet? You are here to service me,” he playfully snarks back. “Dreams really do come true at Disneyland.”

Chord is not sure how all their conversations had become one giant ball of sexual innuendo. He sticks with the joking tone for his own personal safety. 

“Customer Satisfaction is our number one priority.”

“Well, my hands are cold so do you mind if I warm them up?”

“We aim to please.” 

“Excellent.” Darren exclaims and then proceeds to put his right hand on the back of Chord’s neck. Chord shivers. Darren starts to rub circles in the back of Chord’s neck. It feels amazing. Chord put his head back down and closes his eyes in defeat. He realizes he is losing this battle. 

Darren’s fingers are strong.The neck massage combined with the shots of tequila earlier are putting Chord into a state of bliss. He is feeling warm all over. He really should shift Darren back on to his thigh and crack open the window. That is what he should do. That is a sound tactical plan. 

It wasn’t what he did. Instead of reaching for the window, the left hand splayed on Darren’s back begins keeping time to the newest tune Darren was humming, When You Wish Upon a Star. Darren starts to swaying his hips to the beat in his head as he continues to stroke Chord’s neck. The swaying is causing Chord’s boxers to rub against his cock. Everything is starting to feel better way than it should. It is becoming a replay of the infamous Pan’s Labyrinth movie night. 

Chord knows he really needs to do something as his feeling are going to take physical form soon. He is determined to get this situation under control before it gets to the point of no return. 

Darren is his friend and coworker. He is inside a car with two other people. This can not go down. He is needs to get control of himself. He needs to take a deep breath and get Darren off his junk. 

But he doesn’t do anything as Darren takes that moment to slide his left hand inside Chord’s shirt, popping off a button in the process. 

Chord manages to stifle a moan as Darren begins to play with his right nipple. He has a full on erection now that no amount of deep breathing is going to make go away.

Darren starts placing soft kisses on Chord’s neck as he grinds his ass harder against his cock. He’s pinching his nipple with one hand and tugging Chord’s hair with the other, yanking it to expose more of his neck to Darren’s tongue. Right before he bites his ear he whispers, “You like to have your hair pulled don’t you?”

Chord is squeezing what are sure to be bruises into Darren’s thigh and waist but he can’t help himself. He can not recall the last time he has ever been so turned on. He tries to mutter out words to tell Darren that it’s all too much and they need to stop but all that comes out is “Darren” before Darren ceases playing with Chord’s nipple and places his finger on Chord’s lips. 

“Shhh,” Darren coos out, “Let's have fun, yeah? You can stay at my place and go home in the morning.” 

Who is he to turn down fun, Chord thought. That logic made sense to him. Fun was something. It was simple. He could leave the regrets to the morning. 

Darren starts to rub his finger across Chord’s lips as the other hand continues to play in his hair. Everything feels too good for him to think any deeper. Too much sexual tension. Too many wet dreams. Too many repressed feelings. 

Chord is at his breaking point. 

He finally manages to stutter out, “Okay.” 

Ok is the green light for Darren. He moves his right leg to the other side of Chord, braces his knees on the leather upholstery and is now full on straddling Chord in the back seat of the Towncar. 

Darren pushes Chord’s shoulders so he slides down a bit. Darren begin to grind on him with purpose. The head of Chord’s cock perfectly slotted in Darren’s crack, hitting the seam of his jeans on every stroke. The friction is mind numbingly good. 

“You have such beautiful lips,” Darren notes, before rubbing his teeth gently across Chord’s lower lip, sucking it into his mouth. The kiss that follows has Chord moaning in pleasure. Darren’s mouth soft and warm like he had always imagined. 

“Darren I...we need to….because,” is all he eeks out. He can feel the smile on Darren’s face. 

“Really, close are we...then I probably shouldn’t do this,” he replies, as he reaches down in Chord’s pants and begins to jerk him off. 

“No!” is all Chord gets out before his eyes squeeze shut and he starts coming in his pants. After a few minutes, he opens them. Darren has moved back to his "man perch" with a smug look of satisfaction plastered on his face. 

“Oops,” he coys as he pops his cum stained fingers in his mouth, one a time, sucking them clean. 

The driver announces they have arrived at Darren’s house before Chord can say anything. 

Opening the door, Darren grabs Chord's hand as he climbs out the car, dragging a dazed Chord out with him. His leather jacket, retrieved from the floor, shields his state of arousal from the driver. He doesn’t bother with goodbyes to Mark and Steve as they are still dead to the world in the back seat. 

“Hope you are ready for round 2, Chord Overstreet,” Darren teases as he leads the way to his front door, “The night of fun has just begun.” 

Chord still addled from tequila and post orgasmic happiness is not really sure what he is ready for but he will see where it goes. This wasn’t his plan but he started down this rabbit hole so he may as well see it through. Besides, if this is only the beginning, he’s looking forward to more adventures as this one has already had a happy ending.

**Author's Note:**

> If by chance you find this RPF enjoyable, please keep that joy inside fandom. Do not forward this story to the actors (or their friends) because you think they will get a kick out of reading of it. Famous folk don’t want to read a story that involves them having sex with their colleague and friend. That is the opposite of fun. 
> 
> I don’t think the actors are engaged in a clandestine affair in RL. I do believe they are just friends. But as a lover of fantasy, it was too good to pass up on the ‘what if’/ alternative reality idea of them becoming more than friends. 
> 
> I wrote this for me bc I couldn’t find a lot of Overcriss fic. I also need to sharpen my virtually non existence creative writing skills. So two birds...
> 
> It’s my first foray into writing gay smut. My third fan fic and the longest story I have written. I will get better at it. Practice makes better. (So sorry for the mangled tenses. The idea was car action present, flashbacks past, dreams present.)
> 
> I cut out about 1K works - one sexual fantasy and one event. Hence the reference to an infamous movie night. I will probably lengthen the missing movie night piece a bit and post it. I cut it out bc it was a little too similar to the car scene, it needed work (more dialogue) and my eyes were already starting to blur writing the fic so it was easier to cut it out. I was sad to have to take out the sexual fantasy scene, it was a post End of Twerk sexual fantasy. 
> 
> I do have the idea for part 2 of the story. More smut, less exposition hopefully. 
> 
> If you think this is horrible, let me know how to make it better. I swear you won’t hurt my feelings. Just be specific. ‘This sucks’ isn’t helpful. ‘This sucks because of XYZ’ that’s gold. If you like it, gee thanks.
> 
> 1.5.14: I do plan to do a part 2, it just taking longer than anticipated! You can find me on my fandom tumblr here [x](http://the-witchqueen-of-angmar.tumblr.com)


End file.
